


The only exception

by Justasmalltownfangirl



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Age Difference, Fluff and Angst, Height Differences, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-12 02:46:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 23,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4462538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justasmalltownfangirl/pseuds/Justasmalltownfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"All I've ever done in my entire life is hurt people, all I ever do is putting myself over others. I've hated every person I've ever met, and I'm the kind to try and make them suffer as much as possible. That's me, that's who I am. I'm a bad person, and I hurt people. What makes you think that I wouldn't do that to you? What makes you think that you would be the only exception?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You'd have better luck with Mr Barrow

He had been doing just fine, had managed perfectly, and then _he_ had come along and ruined everything. If he had thought it was bad in London, then it was ten times worse at Downton. He couldn't just leave him alone, oh no, he had to come work at the Abbey and make everything so much harder. Because wherever Thomas looked nowadays, he was there. He sat across him at the table, he polished the silver when he did, he ran after him in the corridor and asked for his help, he knocked on his door every morning to ask if he wanted to go for a walk even when he knew the answer was always no. He was everywhere, absolutely everywhere, followed him around like a puppy dog. It didn't matter that he made sure to yell at the maids when he was around, it didn't matter that the hallboys parted for him like the ocean for Moses. All because he had been so stupid, so swept up, so enchanted by his sad eyes and had hated so much to see him hurt. He just _had_ to help him, didn't he? So stupid, so stupid of him.

Because the problem wasn't that he didn't like the boy, it was the complete opposite. He liked him too much, liked him in the way he had liked Jimmy, liked him in the way that had made him seek treatment in the first place. He liked him too much and that never ended well, he knew that from experience.

It can be so exhausting, liking someone in a way when you know they don't like you back, when you know it can never be the way you want it to. Thomas knew that more than others, he had experienced it first hand more than once. It had been so frustrating that he had tried to take it away altogether, but that hadn't worked. For some time he had believed that it actually had, he could at least pretend it had. Now it was right in his face again, all the time. That he was different and weird and foul and everything else he had ever been told, and that he would never be like the others. He couldn't escape it, couldn't forget it, because he was always right there, reminding him of it.

Andy wasn't only at the Abbey, he was in his dreams. Wrong dreams, inappropiate dreams, whenever he had those, Andy was there. And he wasn't even his type, wasn't even handsome! With his tall stature and his big ears, and his curly dark hair and eyes pointed downwards. The maids never flocked around him, Daisy never swooned about him, so why did he? Why did it have to happen to him, why did Thomas Barrow have to be so endlessly in love with insipid little Andy Parker?

***

Andy was nervous, nervous about the cricket match, nervous because he had told his lordship that he wasn't really the type but had been practically forced into participating. There weren't enough players, there weren't ever enough willing players. Andy hadn't played cricket in his life, hadn't played any sport at all. If his father had been alive, that's the sort of thing he would've taught him. But he wasn't alive, hadn't been for many years. He hadn't thought the position of footman would involve much of it, but now he had to play cricket.

”That's alright”, Daisy tried to calm him down. ”We're not much good anyway.”

”But _I_ want to be good!” he sighed. ”We needn't win or anything, but I wouldn't want to be the reason we didn't.”

Daisy put down the pot she'd been carrying and dried off her hands on her apron.

”Well”, she said. ”Get someone teaching ya then.”

Andy lit up.

”Of course, that's what I'll do!” he exclaimed. ”I hear Molesley's quite the player, ain't he?”

Daisy chuckled.

”Oh, Molesley's all talk”, she said. ”You'd have better luck with Mr Barrow than that one.”

Because he wanted it so badly, because it made him so happy and it had been exactly what he had been hoping for; Andy didn't hear the sarcasm in her voice, didn't realize that she was joking.

”Thank you, Daisy!” he yelled, grabbed her head and kissed her on the forehead.

He was so happy and so excited that he ran away immediately, but had he stayed only seconds longer he would've seen Mrs Patmore look accusingly at her assistant cook, and hadn't he been in such a rush he would've heard her calling for him.

He caught up with the underbutler in the corridor, and he didn't know that Thomas had heard him calling for him several times already.

”I really need to talk to you”, he said and panted.

”About what?” Thomas said, while just keeping on walking.

He couldn't do any more for the boy, not even slow down when he had just ran and needed to catch his breath. He couldn't encourage him in any way.

”I'm supposed to play in the cricket match”, Andy said.

”Supposed to?” Thomas questioned.

”Thing is I can't play.”

”I'm shocked.”

”And I need someone to teach me.”

”Have you talked to Molesley?”

”Would you stop?” Andy said and grabbed his shoulder.   
Thomas did so and sighed, both over him and over the fact that he couldn't disobey him.

”What?”

”You need to teach me to play cricket.”

No. That was not good, that was way too risky. Had he ever been completely alone with Andy? Had he ever had to talk about anything close to personal? He didn't know what he'd do, didn't know if he could control himself in such a situation. And the more he thought about it, the worse it got. Andy swetting, Andy only halfly dressed, the two of them completely alone with no watching eyes...

”I'm very busy”, he said.

”But you're the only one downstairs that's actually good!” Andy insisted.

”I'm not actually _that_ good-” Thomas said, keen to take him off the idea of it all.

”You're better than Molesley.”

Thomas sighed. He _was_ better than Molesley, but to be fair, practically everyone was.

”Please.”

Thomas tried his hardest to come up with another excuse, but found it impossible. Had it been any other person he would've simply told them to bugger off, but he couldn't with Andy.

_Bloody hell_ , he thought.  _I'm going soft._

”Well”, he said. ”All I've got's an hour after lunch.”

”Perfect!” Andy yelled. He didn't have those hours himself, but he'd much rather come up with a fake excuse for Carson than risk the underbutler changing his mind again, reluctant as he'd been. ”At the field, then?”

No, not the field, that was bad. That was too far away from everyone, anything could happen at the field, and nothing was supposed to happen.

”We needn't use the whole field”, Thomas said. ”We could just be out back, couldn't we?”

That was much better. He couldn't do anything knowing that anyone could be watching, that anyone could look out any of the many windows and see. That would be too risky, he wouldn't dare to. He would have to control himself.

”Yeah, yeah”, Andy agreed. ”Sure.”

He smiled broader than Thomas had ever seen anyone smile.

”See ya then.”

He ran off. Thomas stood there and gathered himself together, forced himself not to look after him. He sighed. He was so dumb.


	2. It's not like that

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read the first chapter before this one existed, you need to go back and read a part that I added to make the chapters longer and more balanced, or you won't understand this at all.

”Hey, Thomas!”

He'd been ten minutes late on purpose, so Andy was already their with bat, ball and glove, weirdly enough still happy and all eager to get started.

”That's Mr Barrow for you.”

”Sorry.”

They stood quietly there for a few seconds, neither of them quite sure what to say.

”Shall we get going then?” Thomas asked. Andy nodded eagerly.

He wasn't as eager just minutes later.

”I can't hit the bloody ball”, he shouted.

”I can see that”, Thomas responded from a safe distance away.

”You were supposed to teach me this!”

”I can't tell you to hit the ball”, Thomas protested. ”You just hit it, here are no techniques for it!”

Truth was he didn't want to have to go closer to him than he had to.

”Of course there is, there are techniques for everything!” Andy yelled. ”Like, how high do I throw it, how hard do I hit, how do I hold the racket, how fast do I react?”

”Faster than that.”

”Why thank you!” he said and threw the bat to the ground in a rage. ”You're really helpful, do you know that?”

Thomas sighed.

”Do you want this position instead?”

Oh shit. That didn't sound good.

”I could try”, Andy laughed. ”Can't be harder than this, can it?”

That's exactly what it was.

”Pass me the ball”, Thomas said as they passed each other by, several feet apart, of course.

Andy aimed and threw it and he put up his hand to catch it. The ball went right over his head.

”Sorry”, Andy said. ”Should I get it?”

”No”, Thomas said. The last thing he needed was Andy kneeling down right in front of him. ”Just go get into your position.”

Thomas picked up the ball and Andy positioned himself further away and put on the glove. He couldn't help himself but look at him as he did it, but shook it off and picked up the bat.

”You ready?” he yelled.

Andy nodded, his knees bent down slightly and his gloved hand up and ready.

”You're supposed to catch it, okay?”

”It would help if you told me the rules!”

”I'm not telling you what's gonna happen if you can't do it!”

Andy rolled his eyes.

”Just hit the frickin' ball already!”

Thomas got ready, held the bat, threw the ball, hit the ball, saw the ball fly through the air, then starting to come down, and he saw Andy bend down even more and look straight at him instead of the ball, and _bam!_ It hit him in the head and knocked him to the ground.

”Shit!” Thomas shouted. ”You git, I said you were supposed to catch it!”

Andy didn't make a sound.

”Andy?”

He still didn't reply.

”Oh, shit!”

Thomas threw away the bat and rushed towards him, not caring at all that he would have to get close to an Andy that was laying down in the grass on his back, just scared that he was hurt, worried that _he_ had hurt him.

When he got up to him he saw that he was fully conscious and heard that he was whimpering weakly.

”Are you okay?”

”It hurts”, he said.

”Lemme take a look at it”, Thomas said, getting down on one knee in front of him.

Andy sat up and looked at him and his face was close to his, dangerously close, his lips only a kissing distance away.

”There's a mark, ain't it?”

There was a mark, a red big one on his cheek. But that was good, it was better there than and on his forehead. That meant he wasn't hurt at all.

”There's no mark”, he said. ”You're just fine.”

”There _is_ a mark!” Andy whined. ”I can feel it!”

”But I can _see_ that there's not.”

And then Andy became quiet, so quiet he couldn't hear him breathing anymore. He just stared straight into his eyes and Thomas felt uneasy, felt as if he saw right through him, right through all the walls and barriers, straigh into his soul.

”Andy”, he said. ”What are you doing?”

Andy didn't reply, just stared at him.

”And-”

He threw himself over him, tackled him from his unsteady position to the ground so he hit the back of his head and lost his breath as he hit it.

”What the _hell_ are you doing?!” he shouted, an underbutler with hair and clothes all messy and green of grass, on his back on the ground in front of a footman – Andy Parker but still a bloody _footman –_ humiliated and exposed.

The footman in question just sat beside him and laughed ridicilously.

Thomas put down his elbows to the ground, supported himself on them and pulled himself up to a half sitting postion. He had just enough time to see Andy look at him and laugh, a more sincere laugh than he had ever heard before, and he had just enough time to think that he must be the most beautiful person he had ever seen, before surprise attack number two came.

Andy's lips were pressed awkwardly and hard at his, his tongue forced his way into his mouth and his hand gripped ahold of his cheek. Thomas could actually feel the fire that was burning inside of him burning inside Andy too, and as soon as he realized what was going on he returned it, kissed him just as hard and eagerly. He had been waiting for that moment for such a long time and it had always been just a dream and a fantasy, never an actual possibility, and certainly never a reality. And suddenly it was, and it went so fast that he didn't have the time to even think about it. In that moment there was nothing that could go wrong. The building they were outside didn't exist, the people in it couldn't see them, the doors that could let them out just beside them were gone. Nothing existed, nothing other than the two of them, Thomas on his elbows, Andy sitting in the grass, holding his face in his hand and kissing him hungrily.

But then Thomas got to thinking, because behind his closed eyelids he could see himself kissing Crowborough very much the same, and then he could see himself darting through the room only to be stopped by his arms tightly around his. He could see that Turkish man he couldn't remember the name off slap his hand of, and he could see Edward's hand on his lap and almost feel his own on top of it, and then he could see himself crying in that hallway. And he could see Jimmy under him as he kissed him, and he could see him angry and raging as he pushed him out the room and slammed the door shut behind him. And then he remembered, that for people like him, love is but an illusion, a happy ending is far away on the horizon and that's the way it always ends, with him sad and alone, with his heart broken and hope crushed. How could he ever think that this time it would end differently, that Andy was an exception? How could he possibly be that silly and naive again?

He pulled away immediately, let go off the sweet sensation of Andy that close to him and managed to get up on his feet.

”What the hell do you think you're doing?!” he screamed.

Andy sat on the ground with a confused and scared expression on his face and his hand still held out for an invisible cheek.

”I thought-” he said. ”I've heard the rumours, and about Jimmy-”

”What about Jimmy?!” Thomas shouted. _”What about Jimmy?!”_

”I just thought-”

”Thought what?!” Thomas shouted, desperately trying to straighten his clothes and remain at least some of the dignity he had just lost. ”Thought that you could just confirm it and then go to the police? That you could get something from me?”

”It's not like that!”

”Then what do you want?!”

”I want you, okay?” Thomas quieted. ”What I want, is you!”

Thomas blinked, opened his mouth, and turned around.

 _That's a lie_ , he told himself. _That's a lie and you know it._

He stormed off, trying to contain himself but walked faster and faster and by the time he was inside in the servant's hall he started running, because he couldn't get to his room and what was in it fast enough.

He still had a little left, and he could order more, he could afford it. He would need it now, need it more than ever now. Dr Clarkson had said that it didn't work, but when had he ever been right? He hadn't been right about Matthew, about him never walking again. And even if it didn't work it made him sick, made him too sick to be able to do anything.

He didn't know how he would be able to walk past him every day now, didn't know how he would be able to sit at the same table as him. His hands shook and his fingers trembled on the shot. That wouldn't do, that wouldn't be enough. He would need more, he would need a double dose from now on. He could still feel the touch of Andy's hand on his cheek, could still taste him and feel his soft lips against his own. He had enjoyed it too much and it was going to ruin everything.

He pressed in the shot in his hip, winced at the pain and injected himself with the only cure he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep them comments coming, because I LOVE THEM!


	3. You were feeling sorry for me

It got bad fast. Within the week he was so weak that standing was overwhelming and moving caused him to wince, his head to throb and his vision to darken. It felt as if his lungs were clogged up and his heartbeat got faster with each day and he couldn't seem to stop his hands from shaking. Eating was a risk as it always came up again, but he didn't have much of an appetite anyway. Everything tasted bad and whenever he forced something in his mouth he couldn't swallow it and only ended up chewing it until it was nothing but goo. He was pale, dark circles were under his eyes and as soon as he got the possibility he leaned on the nearest wall.

It was impossible not to take notice of it, and everyone had to comment on it. The upstairs people would simply exclaim that he looked _horrible_ and the downstairs people would ask how he was doing, how he was feeling and what possibly could be wrong. Some – like Carson and everyone upstairs – he would tell that there wasn't any problem at all, some – like Baxter, Anna and Daisy – he would confine that he felt a little weak and under the weather, but promise that he would be back to his old self in no time, and some – mainly John Bates – he would only sneer at and declare to that it certainly wasn't any of their business how he was feeling – which was completely fine, _by the way_.

Truth is that he was more than suprised by how worried they all seemed to be, how much they all appeared to care about him, because he had never noticed it before. He was stunned, maybe even shocked. But both Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson would often tell him to go lay in bed – an order he never would've listened to if he hadn't been so bad – and Daisy and Mrs Patmore would make sure he got food sent up to his room when he did. Baxter would look at him with concern in her eyes, Anna would continously ask what was wrong and even her husband would smile at him on occasion.

The only one who didn't care one bit, the only one who still acted around him like he was the worst thing he had ever come across, was the only one that he wanted to care; Andy. He wouldn't look at him, wouldn't say a word to him, would position himself as far away as possible at the table and do anything in his power to get away from all work anywhere close to him. Thomas didn't understand how he could've possibly disappointed him that much, because he wasn't all that special and he shouldn't have wanted him that much in the first place. But of course, he didn't know because he had always been weak around him. He hadn't been there that long and he didn't know him, didn't know who he really was. He wanted a dream version of him, a fantasy version that he had made up in his head, not the actual Thomas, because no one ever wanted him at all.

He was actually more afraid than ever, because what he poisoned himself with didn't seem to help at all. He still found his eyes wander towards Andy and his heart still skipped a beat whenever he realized that he was in the room. He started getting desperate, because he couldn't get him off his mind, not now that he knew how he tasted, now that he knew exactly what he was missing and could never ever get.

He didn't know, didn't have any idea, that the pain he felt in his chest can't be caused by any drug in the world.

***

One day as he stood in the servant's hall and leaned against the wall, too tired and weak to keep going. He just needed to gather up some energy and he would be on his way, but once he stood there he didn't seem to able to get his feet to move, and seconds turned to minutes and he still couldn't leave. And right then, in that moment, when he was at his weakest, that dreadful Bates had to walk by, and as Thomas was in such a bad shape no one with a conscience could have walked past him.

”Are you quite alright, Thomas?” he asked, making careful not to sound too interested or worried.

”It's Mr Barrow”, he only wheezed back.

”You've been looking rather terrible lately, if you don't mind me saying”, Bates continued, and Thomas was so strange to it all that he didn't notice that there wasn't an ounce of spite in his voice, not a trace of sarcasm.

”I do mind”, he sneered.

Bates sighed.

”I hope you'll be getting better, Barrow”, he said and walked past.

It took a few seconds for Thomas to process that for the first time, he had called him Barrow. His mouth opened wide and he stared at his back as he limped his way out. He stood there and tried to deny – refused to believe – that Bates had just been worried about him, that he had just cared about him. Because no one ever seemed to do, no one ever seemed to care the slightest about Thomas Barrow, and he didn't have any idea that it would feel like that to have someone actually do.

He was still standing there, trying to comprehend what seemed like so little for everyone else but was enormously huge for him, when Baxter came out the same way as Bates.

He saw in her eyes that she knew, and it wasn't strange because she had known him since he wore diapers. She had seen him in every stage of his life, and he would usually be angry at her because he hated the fact that she knew about his weaknesses and had seen him break down, but now all he could care about was trying to keep her from seeing him do it again, even harder than ever before.

”Don't”, he said before she had even opened her mouth.

”I wasn't doing anything”, she said.

”I know exactly what you were doing”, he sneered. ”You were feeling sorry for me.”

She stared back at him in defiance.

”Yes I was”, she only said. ”And by every right.”

Thomas felt like crying and he didn't know why. Maybe because he was so weak and all he wanted to do was sleep, maybe because he was ashamed of all that she had seen, maybe because he had sunk so low that even Baxter dared to defy him.

Probably because he was so pitiful and weak that Andy couldn't possibly ever want him if he really knew him, even though Thomas had known all along that he never could. Because he wasn't by near enough for him, where he was standing all exposed in the hall and couldn't even go experience the worst time in his life in his room because his legs wouldn't carry him there.

”Please, leave”, he begged, and he would've fallen to his knees if she hadn't seen the desperation in his eyes and decided it best to listen to him and do exactly that.

But when she left all he wanted to do was call out for her and tell her everything, cry against her shoulder and be comforted. He didn't want anything more than human contact, someone listening to him, telling him what to do and saying everything was going to be alright.

His pride stopped him from doing so, and once again he was all alone, the way he had been his entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still loving those comments ;)


	4. I just wanted to kiss you more

The day of the yearly cricket match arrived. Thomas used to love the cricket, it was the only time he was ever good at something, the only time when he was useful.

During the cricket everyone relayed all the men depended on him. He saw their expectant faces as he got ready and he saw them break out into smiles as he made his moved. Everyone cheered and they would run up to him to pat him on the back or even hug him. They smiled at him and shouted his name. For a while they treated him like they treated each other. They treated him like he was a normal man and not a homosexual, they treated him like he was just like them and not as different as he possibly could be. And when they acted like that with him, when they were like that around him, then he could pretend that it was true. He could pretend that he was like them, that he was just like them and that there was nothing different or wrong with him.

Afterwards he would always feel even worse when they avoided him in the corridors or looked at him as he walked past them, because he would still remember how it was to be like them, to be one of them. But it was worth it, the desperation he always felt. Those few precious minutes when he was just another man and everyone liked him, they were always worth it.

But he knew this year would be different. Not only because he couldn't possibly be better than anyone, but because Andy would be standing there and he wouldn't be able to ignore it. With Andy there he couldn't pretend that he was normal, because what he felt for Andy was not something any normal man feels for another man.

”All I'm saying is that I don't think we can rely on Mr Barrow this time”, he heard Molesley say in the corridor just as he was to step out in it.

”When can you ever rely on him about anything?” Andy sneered in response.

They had become best friends all of a sudden and Thomas couldn't help but feel a sting of jealousy. It was his Andy, not Molesley's. Of all people in the world, why Molesley?

Mrs Patmore and Daisy were preparing sandwiches in the kitchen.

”Are you sure you can play, Mr Barrow?” Daisy said as he rushed back and forth.

”Don't worry about me, Daisy”, he assured her. ”I'll manage fine, thank you.”

He noticed Beryl worrily glancing over at him and glared back at her. That woman never did knew when it was best to manage your own business.

”So you're feeling better then?” Daisy continued, completely unaware of the silent argument going on in the very same room.

Thomas didn't want to lie to her, young and naive as she was, but he couldn't tell her the truth either.

”I really do”, he said and forced out a tiny smile, but it was the best he could do. ”It's all because of you too, I bet.”

She blushed and he had a sudden flashback of back when she had had a crush on him some 13 years earlier. That had been tedious, to say the least.

Eventually they all moved down to the cricket field. Everyone seemde to compain about the heat, but Thomas found it absolutely excruciating. His skin was burning and he was swetting buckets, and he was so occupied with reminding himself to breathe that he didn't notice Andy coming up beside him.

”Are you alright?” he asked with a suspicious tone.

The underbutler looked at him in shock. Not once had he wondered how he was doing.

”Quite so”, he blurted out. ”Nothing to worry about.”

He could see that the footman knew he was lying.

”Very well then”, he said.

In the heat, the shock and the general confusion Thomas couldn't think clearly or come up with anything to say.

”I really did think you wanted to learn cricket”, he said before he could stop himself.

_Why on earth did you say that?!_

Andy laughed and looked out over the field.

”I did”, he said. ”I just wanted to kiss you more.”

Thomas started breathing more rapidly as he thought about it.

”But Molesley taught you, didn't he?” he said in a desperate attempt to steer the conversation somewhere else.

”Yeah”, Andy said and grinned. ”I didn't kiss him though.”

A high, uncontrollable giggle escaped Thomas mouth. He couldn't think at all with Andy this close to him, not knowing what he could do with his tongue and what he tasted like.

The footman only gave him a curious look, an amused smile and a shook of the head before he departed and joined in with the others, blended in with them perfectly in a way Thomas had never been able to do even when he was younger.

God, how he envied them, their jokes and their laughs, their glances at the girls. God, how he wanted to be like them. Why he couldn't be he would never know.

Eventually it was his turn. He saw the expectant faces in the crowd and knew that he would disappoint them. The second he stumbled upon the field they knew it too. But he knew that it wasn't he that they worried about, he knew they only cared about the bloody game. They couldn't care less about him, he might as well have dropped dead as long as he had thrown the ball first.

Suddenly the entire world seemed to be spinning around him. His surroundings turned blurry and he could've sworn that the ground was moving beneath him. He didn't want to lay down and give up the way everyone always expected him to do, but he couldn't help that his knees were so unsteady and that his legs didn't appear to be able to hold him up much longer. He wished he could cry out for help and that someone would come running to catch him, but he couldn't have opened his mouth if he wanted to.

He was gone before he hit the ground, face first, and he never did see Andy come running towards him the fastest he could, yelling his name and with a face that would had showed just how worried he was, if only Thomas had been able to see it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are these chapters getting shorter? Shit, I'm sorry!


	5. I'm calling you Thomas if I want to

Apart from a horrible headache and being drained of completely drained of all energy, Thomas was fine. The pressure over his chest and the dizziness was gone. He was just very, very tired, and all he wanted to do was go back to sleep. He felt like he had already been asleep for days, but he didn't want to wake up just yet. He wanted to stay in his dreams, not return to the real world.

But the rustle of paper suddenly cause him to open his eyes. It took a few seconds before he had located himself. He was in his room, laying in his bed. Suddenly he remembered everything, Andy, the cricket, how dizzy he had gotten walking over the field... He had ruined everything. He had lost the game, he had lost their respet. He had messed that up just like he did with everything. He groaned.

”Good afternoon”, someone muttered.

Thomas flew up to a sitting position but the sudden movement made him wince as his head started pounding and his vision was blurred.

Out of all people in the world, it was Andy who was positioned in a chair by his bedside with a paper in his hands. He only took his eyes off it for a second and glanced quickly at the man in the bed before he returned to it.

”Did I pass out?”

”Like a lady”, the footman replied.

Thomas couldn't help but smile.

”This doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you”, Andy continued.

Thomas looked at him as if he was certain that this must be a dream too and he couldn't possibly actually be there.

”Apparently not as mad as some”, he noted.

”You did get the game cancelled.”

Thomas didn't like being weak in front of him, and even less he liked the fact that he had passed out in front of absolutely everyone and confirmed what they had thought about him all along. That he was weaker and less of a man than they all were, that he was unreliable and couldn't be trusted.

”Did they just leave me here before I even woke up?” he asked.

”You did wake up”, Andy said, closing the paper and looking at him. ”Your eyes were opened and you were talking.”

”What did I say?” Thomas asked, with a bad premonition.

If he had said what he thought he had said, then this headache was the least of his worries. If he had said anything about or to Andy, then he would be thrown out on the street without credits and left to fend for himself. Then everything he had worked so har for would be gone and all the pain he had ever felt would've been for nothing.

”You said you needed to get back on the field.”

Thomas exhaled in relief over that he hadn't revealed anything else.

”They were worried about you”, Andy continued. ”They even brought up Dr Clarkson.”

”Really?”

That could had ended terribly. That bloody doctor better not had said anything or he would have to make him pay for it.

”Well, yeah”, Andy said while rolling the paper together. ”But he didn't do anything, he was in here for a minute and came out saying there was nothing he could do.”

Thomas started thinking about excuses, about anything that could explain it and not lead to any more questions.

_That bloody doctor!_

”Must be a virus then”, he said. ”I have been-”

Andy hit him with the paper so suddenly that he was silenced immediately.

”What was that for?!” he whined.

”Because I saw the look on Baxter's face, asked her and she said everything!”

Thomas thought about every possible way he could hurt her enough to make up for the fact that she had revealed his biggest secret, something he had confessed to her thinking he could trust her. He had always known that you can't trust anyone, and now it had been confirmed.

”Andy, I-”

”You're bloody daft!” the footman shouted. ”Those things will kill you, Thomas!”

”That's Mr Ba-”

”No, it isn't! I'm calling you Thomas if I want to!”

He couldn't protest, he was too tired and Andy was too upset. He lowered his eyes and stayed silent.

”It's insane!” Andy continued, now sounding more sad and disappointed than angry. ”You don't need to change, for God's sake, not for me!”

”I wasn't doing it for you”, Thomas muttered under his breath.

”I know that!” Andy hissed. ”I know you never do anything for me, thank you very much. Because you could never do anything to to let me know if you felt or didn't feel the same way as me, and when I decided to be brave for the first time in my life you couldn't say that I wasn't good enough for you. Instead you had to go make me feel like a complete idiot. Don't you have any idea how scared I was of getting reported to the police? I thought I was wrong about you!”

Thomas looked at him, because he hadn't had any idea. He had thought he had done the best thing, he thought he had saved both of them from ruin and heartbreak, and now it seemed like he had made Andy just as unhappy as he had made himself.

”So I know that you don't do anything for me.”

”I was doing it for you”, Thomas whispered. ”You don't know me.”

”Yeah?” Andy said with an amused smile. ”You could just say that you don't want me.”

Thomas was so tired, he was so confused and he was so shocked and still processing what Andy had told him; that he couldn't think. He couldn't be logical and make the right choice. He felt bad for Andy and he felt bad for himself, so he made the wrong choice.

”I couldn't”, he had said before he could stop himself. ”Because I couldn't lie to you.”

They were both silent as neither of them knew what they should do, what they could do. It wasn't a very normal situation, and not one either of them had ever been in before.

But he would be damned if it wasn't true. Because in that moment he wanted Andy more than ever before, as the light hit him from just the right angle and he had been so open about everything he felt. Thomas Barrow, who had never needed anyone in his entire life, suddenly needed Andy more than before. Andy, who wasn't his or anyone else's type, but who was the most beautiful person on the planet to him.

And Andy, Andy had been head over heels in love with Thomas since the first moment he had seen him. He hadn't thought he could feel that way anymore, not after Jack, and he would be a fool not to admit that he had been terrified for a very long time. He had waited for it to end, but it never had. And when he had gathered up his courage and finally took the step and reached the point of no return, nothing had been the way he had planned. He had been awkward and rusty and Thomas hadn't wanted him at all, and his entire life had fallen into pieces again.

But now, now he could do it right. Now he could do it good and Thomas wouldn't be mad. Now he could make everything right and he could mark the beginning of whatever they would be, so he did.

At first the kiss was soft and tentative and not meant to become more than that, but both men had wanted each other for such a long time and it had been so long for both of them, and slowly it became harder and more intense. Andy started fumbling with the buttons of the underbutler's undershirt and he didn't resist, and he still didn't as the hands started moving further south.

A small grunt escaped him when Andy had reached his lower parts and touched them in a way they hadn't been touched in a very long time. The footman broke the kiss and looked at him as if to ask for his permission, and he gave it to him without saying a word.

By habit Thomas threw a quick look at the door to make sure that it was still closed. Andy opened up his trousers and he breathed faster. It was just like in his dreams and fantasies, except now it was real. Now he actually clenched the side of the bed and whimpered as Andy, his Andy, took him in his mouth and made him see stars.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have just found actual, authentic, unedited pics of Rob and Michael playing cricket behind the scenes of season 6. Either that's just a coincidence or I'm actually Julian Fellowes and this is an actual script...


	6. You're a shit, do you know that?

Thomas knew it had been a mistake the second he woke up. He stared at himself in the mirror and cursed over not being stronger. But he had been so tired and disoriented, and he had been more than a little surprised over everything that Andy had said.

No one had ever said things like that to him before, no one had ever felt things like that about him. How could they possibly? He wasn't anything special, he wasn't kind, he didn't ever do anything for anyone. _He_ didn't even like himself, so how could anyone else? Especially someone like Andy, who had the cutest smile and never said a bad word about anyone. Andy, who was young and saw the best in everyone, and then he, who was old and thought everyone was bad.

He didn't doubt that Andy had been sincere, but he knew for certain that he was mistaken. Because Andy didn't know him and all the awful things he had done, he didn't have any idea. The Thomas he knew had never been anything but kind, he had helped him out when he had needed it and hadn't asked for anything in return. He was bound to be disappointed, because that wasn't the real Thomas.

The real Thomas sneered at everyone and didn't lift a finger if it didn't benifit him. The real Thomas hadn't helped him out with the whole Denker situation because he felt bad for him, he had done it because he had a giant crush on him and wanted to be on his good side. The real Thomas was a liar and a coward and only thought about himself. The real Thomas wasn't by far good enough for someone like Andy.

***

Andy hadn't felt like that in a long time. He hadn't stood that long in front of the mirror to fix his hair in ages, hadn't been that thorough with his uniform, hadn't had that many butterflies in his stomach. Not for over a year, not after George.

But Thomas wasn't anything like George, Thomas wasn't anything like anyone. Thomas was different. He couldn't explain how, but he was. He wasn't like anyone Andy had ever met, not even George. He hadn't thought he could feel like that about anyone ever again, but then Thomas had come along and swept him off his feet. It would be different this time, he knew it, he could feel it. Thomas was different, so they would be different. This time would be different. It would end differently, he knew it would.

***

”Mr Barrow, I didn't think I would be seeing you down here today!” Carson exclaimed as a pale and determined underbutler walked past him in the corridor.

”I'm feeling much better”, he replied in a hoarse and weak voice.

Carson grunted a little.

”You should go back to bed”, he said. ”I think we'll manage very fine without you getting the entire family ill.”

But Thomas wasn't weak like his father had always told him that he was. He wasn't a little sissy boy anymore, he was an underbutler and he could get over a little disease.

”I'm much better”, he insisted. ”And I was never contagious.”

The butler stared him up and down. He was still a little weak, but it couldn't possibly show. His legs were steady and his back wasn't crouched.

”Very well”, Carson eventually gave up. ”Tell the others I'll be in in a few minutes, I just have a call to make.”

Thomas nodded and made his way towards the chatter around the table.

”Mr Carson will be in soon”, he said as he sat down in the only chair that was free apart from the butler's.

Andy was sat on the other side, a little to his left. That was good, he couldn't have anything going on under the table. The footman might have been tall, but his legs weren't long enough for his feet to reach Thomas'.

”Feeling any better, Mr Barrow?” he asked with a smirk.

_You know I feel better_ ,  _you took my medicine._

”Yes”, he replied with a stiff smile. ”And I would like to apologize to anyone who might have gotten disappointed that I had the game cancelled.”

”Oh, I don't think anyone is”, the male Bates said. ”Your health is always more important to us.”

Thomas knew he was a liar, an old, crippled liar that didn't care at all about him. But he smiled at him, because he couldn't take a fight right now, not when he already had one planned.

”You had us all worried out there”, Molesley chimed in.

He was actually sincere, but Thomas couldn't be bothered to thank him for being too kind for his own good.

”I suppose that's only because Thomas never gets ill”, Phyllis replied.

Thomas was so grateful that she had saved him from a conversation with Molesley that he almost forgot to correct her.

”That's Mr Barrow for you”, he said.

Before she could reply or more people could join the discussion and even more questions could be asked, Carson burst in through the door and everyone stood up.

When everyone directed their attention towards him Andy waved lightly at Thomas like a smitten little school boy, and he knew that it definitely couldn't go on any longer.

***

He had known Andy would come after him as soon as he could if he went outside and smoked. He hadn't known that he would practically throw himself at him and kiss him. He almost forgot what he was supposed to do, and was pressed against the wall.

”Wait, Andy”, he managed to press out. ”Wait!”

The footman let go and took a step back.

”What the hell are you doing?!” Thomas yelled, throwing a glance at the door to make sure no one was coming out. ”Are you completely out of your mind?!”

Andy realized.

”I'm sorry”, he said.

That tiny smile made it impossible to be mad at him. Thomas sighed and reached up his free hand to fix his hair.

”You're impossible”, he said.

Andy was smiling down at him like an overgrown child, and he almost changed his mind. He didn't want anything more than to see that big, ridicilous smile every day for the rest of his life, but he knew it couldn't ever be. The world wasn't like that, things didn't work like that.

”I've thought about going to the pictures tonight”, Andy said.

Thomas knew what he meant.

”Why don't you take Daisy?” he asked. ”She likes you.”

”Except I don't like her like that”, Andy said. ”Not like I like you.”

Thomas sighed. It was going to be so much harder than he had thought it would be.

”Andy”, he said. ”I can't go to the pictures with you. You do get that, don't you?”

He assumed that Andy was new to all this, the sneaking around and hiding, the fact that your mere presence is a crime. He assumed that he was young and naive just like he had been once, before he had realized just how bad things could get, before he had been way too close.

”Fine then”, the footman replied with a strange tone to his voice. ”We can always do _other_ things.”

”About that...”

Andy stared at him, and Thomas knew that he knew where it was going. He hoped that he would say it himself and take the burden off his shoulders, but he didn't say a word. Just stared at him with those beautiful eyes, begging him not to do it.

”We can't do that either, Andy”, Thomas eventually said.

”You mean that you don't want you?” Andy replied.

Thomas felt physical pain in his chest, but he hadn't taken his medicines because Andy had stolen them from his room when he was passed out.

”That's exactly what I mean.”

”You're really doing this again?” Andy said, unable to do anything but laugh. ”Really? After last night?”

”You practically forced yourself on me!”

”I did not!”

Andy took another step backwards.

”You're a shit, do you know that,  _Barrow?”_

Yes, a shit, that was good, that was much better, much more accurate, than that hero and gentleman Andy had fallen in love with.

”That's exactly what I am!” Thomas shouted. "All I've ever done in my entire life is hurt people, all I ever do is putting myself over others. I've hated every person I've ever met, and I'm the kind to try and make them suffer as much as possible. That's me, that's who I am. I'm a bad person, and I hurt people. What makes you think that I wouldn't do that to you? What makes you think that you would be the only exception?"

Tears were forcing to break out, but he didn't let them like Andy did.

”I never wanted to be that”, he said. ”I never asked for that much. I just wanted you to look at me differently than everyone else and get a little tingly when you about me, you know? I didn't think it was that much.”

_You've already done that._

He didn't want anything more than to wrap his arms around him and tell him that it wasn't too much and that he wanted it too, tell him that he already did that and everything would be alright. But he knew things never really were alright, not even when they appeared to be. 

Never before had he felt that way, never before had he been that desperate and broken down. Not when Phillip had left him, not even when that whole Jimmy business had gone down or when Edward had died. He had hit rock bottom so many times in his life, but never quite like that, when he had to break his own heart because he knew that the person he cared about most in the entire world would do so much better without him.

Andy was still young, and Daisy fancied him. He could still find a nice girl, leave service and get married, have children and grow old. It was too late for him now, that train had left the station a long time ago. But if anyone had ever stopped him back then, when he was young and thought that he could find true happiness in the arms of every older man that looked at him twice, then all of the shit he called his life wouldn't had happened. He wished someone had stopped him, just grabbed him by the arm and put him on the right track, but they never had. He wouldn't had understood it back then, just as little as Andy understood it now, but he wished someone had. It was harsh, but Andy could still be saved. It was too late for Thomas.

He took a deep breath and made the final move, closed the door forever.

”For me it was.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are everyone losing interest in this? Oh well, I'm not anyway.


	7. I really tried

Andy sat on his bed, clenching his fists and breathing heavily. He had been so certain, and then it had ended like that. It was just like when his father had told his sister to stay away from boys or they'd break her heart, except he wasn't a little girl and Thomas wasn't a teenage boy.  
He didn't get Thomas Barrow. Thomas Barrow that was the most intelligent and rational but had almost killed himself with useless injections. Thomas Barrow that had looked into his eyes and told him that he wanted him, Thomas Barrow that had tossed him aside as soon as he got the chance. He didn't get him, and he didn't get how he thought he was supposed to live now, where he thought that he would get air to breathe. Because he couldn't breathe, he was gasping for air, and his heart was beating too fast.  
Why had he even done it in the first place? He never did that, he wasn't like that. He wasn't a smitten teenager, he wasn't a bloody whore. But he had thought that Thomas was different, he had thought that it would be different. What an idiot he was.  
He layed down, still fully dressed. He didn't trust his legs to carry him back to the bed if he went up and changed.  
He had told Carson that he was sick, at least he hoped he had. His voice hadn't been as strong as he thought it would be, and he had only whispered it as he ran across him up the stairs with his vision blurred of tears.  
Again, he thought to himself. You did it again. Good job, you can't keep anyone.  
Everyone left him, everyone disappeared. He reached out his arms and screamed out their names, but they never turned around or came back. It was supposed to be different this time, he was supposed to keep Thomas. He didn't care about everyone else, but he wanted him, wanted to keep at least him. If he only got one person, then he wanted Thomas Barrow, with the pale skin, dark hair and smug smile.  
He screamed and didn't care if anyone heard it. He wanted to scream and scream forever and never stop. He didn't know what else he was supposed to do. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't see, he couldn't think. George would had known what he was supposed to do, but George wasn't there. He was on his own, and all he could do was scream.  
***  
Thomas wished he could tell Andy why he would be better off without him, he wished he could tell him about all the awful things he had done.  
I tried to blackmail the only man I've ever loved.  
I continously harrassed a man that had never done anything against me just because I was jealous of him.  
I stole 24 bottles of wine and tried to frame someone completely innocent for it.  
I got myself shot in the hand and pretended to be a war hero.  
I sabotaged the career of my only friend's nephew just because I felt like it.  
I blackmailed and threatened one of the few people who's ever cared about me.  
But how would that sound? He didn't need Andy hating him more than he already did, even if it would be better for him. Thomas was selfish, and this time he was going to think about himself.  
Andy already detested and avoided him. He couldn't blame him, but he didn't like how indiscreet he was. He glared at him across the table and changed direction when he saw him in the hall. Phyllis cornered Thomas in a corner and asked him what he had done this time.  
”Nothing”, he replied.  
”Nothing?” she asked.  
”Nothing.”  
She knew he was lying, she always did.  
”But I'm glad you're better”, she said and let him go.  
He was just saving up to order more medicine. It was expensive and he didn't have much after spending every single dime on it the last time.  
A few weeks after the cricket game Thomas was walking down the stairs as Andy came rushing up it with a plate of cookies. It was bound to be a disaster, as the underbutler was looking down on his shoes, the footman was focused on his plate and they were both going too fast. They didn't run directly at each other, but the plate hit Thomas' shoulder, which caused Andy to lose his grip and drop it.   
”Bloody hell!” he exclaimed as he bent down to pick them up.  
”I'm so sorry!” Thomas awkwardly apologized.  
He got down on his knees to help him.  
”I've got this!” Andy interrupted.  
”It's fine, it was my-”  
”I said I've got this!”  
In a rage he stood up, with the plate in one hand and the other filled with cookies.  
”An-”  
But Thoma couldn't say anything, before those cookies were thrown at him. It would had been quite ridicilous, a grown man throwing cookies at another one, but neither of them found it funny.   
Andy turned around swiftly and stomped towards the kitchen, almost running into a confused Bates on his way. John stood in the door opening and looked at Thomas, and behind him other faces appeared.  
”What the hell are you looking at?!” Thomas shouted.  
They scoffed and returned to their businesses, as he sat in that stair with cookies around him and a heavy head resting upon tired shoulders. He almost wished that someone would had stayed and asked him how he was, but one way or another, he always did end up alone.  
***  
They were alone in the boot room, Thomas and John Bates. They sat on their separate sides of the table and polished their separate pairs of shoes, and the silence laid heavy in the air until the valet decided to break it.  
”Quite the display in the stairs this morning”, he stated.  
Thomas froze. Now he needed an explanation, a good explanation, a believable one, a probable one. He always used to have explanations for everything, but he didn't come up with anything to say. He couldn't tell the truth, and that he was used to, but he couldn't lie either, and that was a new sensation for him.  
”What's going on between you two?” Bates continued.  
Now he was looking directly at Thomas, and he felt like he was staring right into his soul, saw right through all of his lies and the facade he had put up.  
”You used to be such clothes friends, you and Andy. Now he's mad at you and you're afraid of him.”  
Don't say it, Thomas thought. Don't say it.  
But he said it.  
”Reminds me of the whole Jimmy Kent business a few years back.”  
Thomas always had a reply to everything, but he found himself mute and at loss of words. This wasn't like Jimmy, it wasn't. Andy wasn't Jimmy, he was much better than Jimmy. This wasn't the same, it wasn't.  
”Really?” he managed to get out after a little while.  
”Have you been doing something, Thomas?” John Bates asked. ”Have you been doing something to Andy?”  
No, I haven't, everything I did was for his own good, I did it for him.  
”That's Mr Barro-”  
”Bloody hell!” Bates said and slammed both fists at the table.  
Thomas lowered his head and closed his eyes. He was used to getting hit, he knew it was no use to fight it. Better to just let it happen and get it over with.  
”You stay away from that boy”, Bates continued, his voice had gained that strenght and strictness that he only used in certain situations, and most often towards Thomas.  
”Listen, I get that you don't like me because I'm-”  
”For God's sake, Thomas!” John exclaimed. ”I couldn't care less about what you do in your bedroom, I don't like you because you're a complete arse and a manipulative little devil!”  
Thomas opened his mouth but didn't know what to say. He was a complete arse, and 'a manipulative little devil' was one of the most accurate descriptions he'd heard, but he had always assumed that Bates didn't like him because he was queer. After all, he didn't dislike him because he had stolen his chance at becoming a valet but because he wasn't queer. Because he was perfect, even though he had a limp. He had gotten that limp in honest fighting in an actual war, and Thomas' scarred hand was just the result of his cowardness. And furthermore, Bates had Anna. Sure, they hadn't always had it easy, but they hadn't ever had to hide their love. He would give anything to be able to openly give someone a Valentine's day card or give them a hug in plain sight, maybe even an innocent little kiss if the time was right. He would sell his rotten soul to do that with Andy, but he couldn't. He was younger than Bates, he wasn't crippled and he had a higher position, but he could never do that.   
”He's just a boy, Thomas”, the valet said. ”And I wouldn't mind if he was like you, but I wouldn't let you get his claws on him. All you do is hurt people.”  
Thomas knew that. That's why he had done what he did, but he had ended up hurting him anyway. Not even when he tried could he do anything else. Everything he touched turned to stone, the world was cold at his touch, with his mere presence he killed everything that was sweet and innocent and good.  
”I know”, he whimpered. ”I know.”  
He wanted Bates to hit him now, it would hurt so much less than hearing all those things he already knew. But Bates was quiet in shock, and stared at him. He had seen him weak and vulnerable before, with Jimmy Kent, but not like this. Not this beaten down and with this little self esteem, that wasn't the Thomas he knew.  
”I tried”, he continued. ”I really tried, but it didn't work.”  
”What on earth are you talking about?”  
Thomas looked up. This wasn't what he had wanted, he didn't want Bates feeling sorry for him. He already knew that he was better than him, he didn't need his pity too. Definitely not. He was supposed to hit him and be angry at him, because then he would know how to feel and what to think. He didn't know what to do with this, with the concern in John's eyes and the hand that had been ready to hit preparing reaching out to stroke him comfortingly. He didn't know what to do with it, no one had ever taught him how to respond to kindness. And he hadn't even tried, because he knew he wouldn't need to know it anyway.  
”Just hit me and get it over with”, he said.  
”I wasn't going to hi-”  
”Not strong enough?” he smirked. ”Not even strong enough to hit the little sissy?”  
Bates stared at him, without any idea to what was going on. But he needed to get angry again, so Thomas knew what to do. He always knew what to do, he always did, he needed to.  
”Then mind your own business”, he spat out.   
He stood up and stomped out before he wouldn't be able to hold it in anymore and everything would go to hell. Bates didn't need to feel sorry for him, he didn't need his help. He could do it on his own, like always. It was always better that way.


	8. I could ruin you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This just keeps growing and I don't even know where it's going anymore, whoops

Thomas knew why he was coming when he first heard it. He knew him, there was no other reason. He strenghtened himself, prepared everything he was going to say and rehearsed it in front of a mirror. But he still got cold feet, when the big day came.

”Mr Carson”, he said. ”May I remind you that I am underbutler now and that it is below me to act as a valet?”

Carson sneered.

”Then may I remind you that even I sometimes have to pitch in sometimes?”

Thomas sighed. He had held a little hope, but deep down he had known he would've left his own valet at home and then request him.

”I'm going to ring the dressing gong”, the butler continued. ”And you will dress the duke. Understood?”

Thomas nodded and was on his way. As he passed the door to the servant's hall he could see Andy on a chair and Daisy standing beside him. It was good, it was exactly like it was supposed to be, but when he laughed he still wanted it to be because of him and not Daisy. It had been nice, being friends with him. Not ideal, but much better than this.

The gong rang as he walked up the stairs. His heart was pounding and he was running out of breath. He stood a second at the door before exhaling one last time and knocking at it.

”Come in.”

Thomas opened the door. Standing by the side of the bed was the man that had broken his heart 13 years earlier and that he still hadn't gotten over.

”Well, you've aged”, Phillip smirked, staring him up and down.

”And you've gained weight”, Thomas replied.

He closed the door behind him even though there was nothing that he wanted less. Phillip laughed. He looked practically the same, but 20 pounds heavier and with a lot less hair.

”You should bring your valet on visits”, Thomas said. ”Common courtesy.”

”Ah, but I don't have one”, Phillip replied. ”Had to fire him.”

Thomas took a step closer but held a safe distance, because he wasn't young and naive anymore. He was older and wiser and wasn't going to be swept along by promises of riches and foreign travel. He didn't need that anymore, it didn't matter as much as it had back then.

”Really?” he said.

The duke walked up to him so they were only inches apart, their faces dangerously close.

”Hm, yes”, he said. ”So I suppose the position is open.”

Young Thomas had thought he was handsome, hilarious, intelligent and urbane. He had believed every word he said and been mesmerized by those beautiful eyes. Old Thomas thought he was pathetic and disgusting, with his bald spot and round stomach. Footman Thomas would had thrown himself at him and begged to be chosen, underbutler Thomas laughed at him.

”You can't be serious!” he exclaimed.

Phillip took a step back and gave him a glare.

”Are you laughing at me?”

”What happened to getting married?” Thomas asked in return.

”I was married”, the duke of Crowborough said. ”For eight years, until she died.”

”My condolences”, Thomas said sarcastically.

”Don't be”, he said. ”She gave me two sons before she went, so that's settled.”

Of course. It was all about the heirs with those people, always.

”How nice.”

The man he had once loved reached up a hand and stroked his cheek.

”I couldn't get you out of my head”, he said.

Thomas was repulsed by having to have physical contact with him.

”What does that mean?” he asked. ”That it got too risky to take temporary lovers that you decided that it would be best to have someone permanent, someone you already knew would be up for it?”

Phillip took back his hand and grinned sheepishly.

”Pretty much.”

Thomas scoffed.

”You almost got arrested, didn't you?”

”That's not what I was saying.”

”But you were!”

Phillip sighed.

”It was very close.”

Thomas laughed maliciously.

”So, what do you say?” the duke asked.

”I say?” Thomas repeated. ”What do I say?”

He couldn't believe that he had fallen for that once, almost as little as he could believe that he was trying just the same trick again, thinking that it would actually work.

”I'm an underbutler now, Phillip!” he laughed. ”Why the hell would I settle for valet?”

_Especially now that I have Andy here._

But something changed in Phillip's eyes, and a sinister smile grew on his face. He wasn't dumb, even if he appeared to be sometimes. Thomas got a lump in his throat. He had a bad feeling about where this was going.

The other man got closer to him again, so close that their foreheads almost touched, and grabbed his neck with one hand, breathing heavily and grinning.

”I stole your trick”, he whispered complacently. ”I kept one of those letters you sent me.”

He laughed and Thomas froze.

”You know”, he continued. ”It's funny, but it looks as if you were completely obsessed with me. And some of the things in there, oh, it's downright _naughty_ , Tommy.”

 _This isn't happening_ , Thomas thought. _This can't be happening._

For years he had dreamt of getting out of Downton, but not like this. No, not with Phillip. Not with Andy there, not when Andy existed and he knew he could do much better, even better than a duke. But what could he do? He didn't want to go to prison either, but what could he do? Thomas Barrow could always do something, _always,_ but now he couldn't do anything.

”I could ruin you”, Phillip told him. ”Not just get you fired, but arrested. _I could ruin you_.”

For a moment all you could hear was their breathing. Thomas mind was racing, but _his_ face was too close to his. All he could think about was Andy. How he couldn't leave Andy there, even if he didn't want to be with him anymore. How disappointed Andy would be, because he had always thought he was tough and strong and brave. He was really a coward, he always gave up.

Phillip kissed him, forced himself into his mouth. He felt like throwing up and pulled away, pushing the other man away from him.

”Get away from me!” he screamed.

He couldn't start crying, couldn't let him see him weak. But he was so powerless, and he hated being powerless.

”You better think this through”, Phillip admonished.

Thomas launched at the door, threw it open and ran outside before slamming it shut behind him. He was still catching his breath and trying to calm himself down, and a bit down the hall Carson gave him a curious look.

”What on earth-”

”The duke decided to dress himself”, Thomas interrupted.

Carson didn't believe him one bit, but he needed to get away from there as soon as possible and just walked away.

It was the end, the actual end. It wasn't going to be anything more, just end.

Because all solutions have problems, but not all problems have solutions.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My fingers slipped


	9. Think about it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be like five chapters, now I've written twelve without being done.

Thomas Barrow didn't often contemplate his life. He wasn't known for regretting the choices he had made and didn't spend many hours awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was out of character for him to be kept awake by worries. He always found a way to solve everything, he'd done it his entire life. And when he couldn't do anything he would only lay down flat and give up, surrender and rise white flag. He knew when things were pointless and couldn't be changed, and he never bothered when they were. What use would it be, if he made a complete fool of himself and fought and struggled without getting anywhere? He preferred go to down with his back straight and his head high, his hair laid perfectly and his uniform without wrinkles.

But this night, he couldn't stop thinking. His mind was racing without making any sense, and he laid on his side with his knees up by his stomach. He had considered telling Carson he was sick just to get away from Phillip for a little while. He couldn't deny him that, not when he had worked constantly for so long without ever taking time for himself. Especially not after the incident at the cricket field.

But then he had thought about what that would lead to. If not him, then who would undress the family's guest? It was probable to be Molesley and Thomas didn't mind that at all, but what if it fell on Andy? Phillip was like a tiger, he could practically smell when men were like him. And him, greedy, manipulative and charming, with Andy, young, naive and heartbroken, was a recipe for disaster. No, Thomas wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something happened.

So for Andy he had gathered himself together, he had attended dinner and kept calm. He had stood there and watched Phillip talk and laugh with the Crawleys and not pay any attention to him. He had always been good with secrets.

Thomas had undressed him in silence, with shaking hands that fumbled with every button.

”Think about it”, the duke had said to him as he opened the door.

He hadn't replied, but hurried up the stairs to the servants' quarters and the safety of his own room, the only place where he wasn't constantly watched and judged.

There was something about the sudden insomnia that made him more aware than ever of everything he had done wrong and all the people he had hurt. But he didn't want to think about it, didn't want to be reminded of how awful he was. He already knew.

Instead he thought about what was ahead of him. He thought about himself in a giant bed with satine covers, naked with another man. If he didn't know better he would had thought the medicine had worked, because that was a thought that had never before repulsed him. Hell, he'd dreamt about it since he was a little boy, he had always wanted that life. But when you get what you've always wanted it's never really the way you imagined it.

He had always wanted to leave Downton, but not if it meant leaving Andy, and definitely not for this. He didn't want to sit down for lunch with the other servants and know that they all knew why he was really there, he didn't want to walk past Phillip's sons and have to look them in the eyes ( _hi boys, I'm shagging your father)._ In his days he had done a lot of things he didn't want to do, but for some reason this seemed worse than anything.

He often visualized himself elsewhere, had always done it. It had been with Phillip, then with Edward, then with Jimmy, and for a short while he had tried his hardest to do it with some random woman he passed by on the street. But lately he had only ever been able to see himself with Andy. Sometimes on a beach, sometimes on a boat headed towards the horizon, sometimes in a little clock shop he thought was his own, and sometimes just sat beside each other in the servant's hall. He would be smoking and reading a paper, and Andy would have his head rested on his shoulder and his arms wrapped around his waist. And no one would say a word, not a single sould would think it strange or out of the ordinary. No one would look more at them than they did at the Bates' or Molesley and Phyllis. Not even more than they had all stared at Carson and Mrs Hughes back when they had gotten engaged, when they hadn't been able to stop brushing past each other or stare into the other's eyes and smile big smiles that made Thomas want to throw up. He knew it could never be that way, but he couldn't help it.

That's what he was doing, and that's why he was still awake when his door was slowly opened. For a dreadful moment he thought it was Phillip, only almost dressed and fully prepared to do whatever it would take to get Thomas exactly where he wanted him. He flew up into a sitting position and told himself that if he needed to, then he would scream, he would definitely scream.

He would scream and not give a damn about anything, he would get fired and arrested and whatnot. But he would see everyone stare at Phillip, he would have to hear him try to explain himself, dressed only in a robe and nothing more. He could take Carson's judging look, he could take Andy staring at him like the scum he knew he was. If it would mean that the duke had to explain himself to lord Grantham, if it would mean that he had to pack his bags and leave in the middle of the night, then he could take it. Even if he would have to follow him eventually, even if he would be angry with him when he did.

If he had to, then he would scream so loud the entire world could hear it.

 


	10. I couldn't think of anyone else I could tell

But the head that poked inside wasn't Phillip's but his complete opposite's.

”Are you awake?” Andy whispered.

”What the hell are you doing?!” Thomas whisper screamed back.

It didn't matter much anymore if anyone found a man in his room, he was leaving anyway. But he couldn't have Andy losing his job, or even worse, get arrested.

”Shh!” the footman commaded, as he stepped inside and quietly closed the door behind him. ”I just want to talk.”

But when had anyone ever come to his room only to talk?

”You're not supposed to be here!”

”There are so many things I'm not supposed to do”, Andy said.

He sat down on the edge of the bed. Thomas moved to the side and they sat as far from each other as they could.

”I know something's wrong”, Andy continued. ”You've been acting weird all evening. And I don't expect you to tell me anything, but I thought you might need some company.”

”That's the last thing I need right now”, the other man muttered.

Andy laughed.

”You are really strange, do you know that?” he asked.

”I've been told”, Thomas replied.

He was confused. Andy wasn't supposed to be in his room, sit on his bed and laugh with him. He was supposed to be angry and not want anything to do with him. He was supposed to glare at him across the table and walk fast past him. Thomas knew what to do when he did that, but not when he did this.

”This would be so much easier if I could hate you”, Andy said.

Thomas didn't say anything, and even though he agreed he knew he could never hate Andy. He looked at him, and his eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness.

_This is one of the last times I'll ever be able to look at him_ , he thought to himself. He didn't know if he was supposed to feel something about that, but he didn't. He just felt empty.

”I thought you were so handsome the first time I saw you”, Andy said and giggled.

”I'm not handsome”, Thomas said.

”No, I know”, Andy replied. ”That's before I got up close.”

Thomas almost laughed at that, but he wasn't fast enough to hold back the smile. Andy didn't even try. He was so cute when he laughed, so Thomas didn't want him to either. But then he became quiet and looked down on the ground.

”Do you know why I came to the house during that wedding?” he asked quietly.

Thomas didn't.

”I was a hallboy”, Andy said. ”Never seemed to be able to become more than that either.”

He laughed nervously.

”But there was this other hallboy”, he said. ”At the house where I worked, and...”

He twisted a bit where he sat.

”Let's just say that I loved him, a lot”, he said. ”And he loved me. And it was very nice.”

Thomas thought about it, but couldn't quite understand how something like that would work. There would be a lot of sneaking around, a lot of hiding. It would've been easier if they shared a room though, and hallboys often did just that. But still. Two men together like a married man and woman, that was a new idea for him. It was strange and alien, and didn't seem all that convenient. Of course, he had never wanted anything else. But he had never thought something like that could actually ever be.

”Did it work?” he asked.

”Yes it worked”, Andy said and looked back at him. ”But I didn't come here to tell you that it can work, I'm not that desperate thank you.”

He was silent for a few seconds again.

”He died”, he said eventually. ”He got sick in typhus, and eventually he died. That's just before I came to Grantham house, that's why I did it. To get away a little while. And that's why I went with Denker, to keep my mind off it. But then you were there, and everything got a little better, a little brighter.”

Thomas didn't know what he was supposed to say. He didn't know what was expected of him or how he was supposed to respond, so he was quiet. He didn't know how to comfort, because no one had ever comforted him.

”But then I got back”, Andy continued. ”And he was replaced by a new boy. And I thought it was good to not have to be alone, and I thought he was nice. But we had to share a room, and eventually he found some pictures. Of us.”

Thomas saw where it was going.

”He said he was going to call the police”, Andy confirmed. ”But then I was offered the job here, and off I ran.”

_And then you met me._

It only made things worse, that Andy had been through so much already, and then he had come along and made everything even worse for him.

”I'm sorry”, he said.

”Don't be”, Andy said. ”I've never told anyone. It felt good.”

But he was on the verge of crying, and Thomas reached out a hand to grab his.

”I couldn't think of anyone else I could tell”, he said as he squeezed back.

”You wouldn't feel like this if you knew me”, Thomas said.

Lonely teardrops hit the window. The corridors were quiet. The sun would rise a few hours later. And right there and then, without saying a word, Andy kissed Thomas. He pressed himself against him as if he was a rock out on a windy ocean and he couldn't find the shore.

And Thomas thought that if he would ever be happy in his life, then it was there and then. If that would be the last chance he would ever have, then he would take it. And he kissed him back, harder and harder.

_This once,_ he told himself.  _This once I'll let it happen._

Because he had wanted this since the first time he had saw Andy, since he had first looked into those beautiful eyes. And if he got this before he left, then maybe it would be enough. Then maybe it would be better afterwards.

But he didn't give a damn anymore if it wouldn't be better. Because for this once he didn't need to think, this once he could do it. Just this once.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say that I really do appreciate all your comments very much and love to see them come in, but I tend not to reply to them because I'm weird and like to have lots of comments but hate knowing that half of them are mine. So, yeah... But to everyone who's ever said anything; thank you so much!


	11. Lovely day, isn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm desperately trying to get as much of this as possible up before Sunday when none of this will happen and my OTP won't become canon :)

Thomas woke up, almost thinking that Andy would still lay beside him, fully prepared to have to sneak him out of there before anyone saw it. He wouldn't had been surprised, not knowing Andy. But his bed was empty besides from him, and only his own clothes were on the floor.

It had been a long time since he had done _that_. He had been a bit rusty, no point in denying it, and so had Andy. But then they had found their rhythm, all the right places to touch and all the little movements that made the biggest difference, and it had been absolutely fantastic.

_Guess I finally know those medicines didn't work_ , he thought.

He decided to not think about anything else, about Phillip and how he was leaving. He even decided against thinking about how it had always ended before, about how he sat there holding Edward's hand without knowing that he would be gone just hours later, about Jimmy walking down the corridor and disappearing into Lady Anstruther's room. None of that mattered anymore, not with Andy. Because he knew that it would end too, but this time he would get a good ending. Now he would finally do something right.

He smiled when he walked into the servant's hall that morning, and he couldn't even remember the last time he had done that. He had called out 'good morning!' to everyone, and that he most certainly had never done before. But he couldn't help but feel happy, when Andy was sitting just across the table from him and looked so beautiful, when he knew how wonderful he was and that someone that wonderful could actually love him.

And he couldn't help but smile, when he saw how happy Phyllis was sat beside Molesley, and he couldn't help but laugh when he made a joke for her. He didn't feel jealous and he didn't envy them, because in a way he now finally knew how it felt and how absolutely wonderful it was, and she deserved that more than most.

He couldn't even help but remember how Bates had looked so worried for him, how he for a moment had almost appeared to care.

”Lovely day, isn't it?” he said.

John stared at him, and suddenly everyone else around the table did too.  _What's gotten into him?_ he could see them wonder. If only he could had stood up and shouted that it was Andy Parker.

”I suppose it is”, the valet replied.

But it was something about the way he said it, how he wasn't shocked but suspicious, that made Thomas realize how it really was. He thought he was up to something. Everyone thought he was. Because that's how terrible he had been, so awful that if he ever smiled then it was because he was about to cause someone pain. Because if Thomas Barrow was happy, then he had done something bad. Because Thomas Barrow couldn't find joy in anything but suffering.

”The weather is wonderful”, Andy shot in.

Thomas smiled gratefully at him across the table, but it was already too late. He had been reminded again, remembered who he really was and how foolish he had been to think he could ever be anyone else.

”Always as nice to get a little sun in Yorkshire”, he replied.

Their interaction only earned them more confused looks from John Bates, who had only days earlier seen Andy run away in rage when he had gotten too close to Thomas.

”That I've noticed”, the footman laughed, because a London child he was.

Carson watched them disapprovingly, not keen to have another Jimmy Kent situation to solve. Thomas wanted to tell him that he didn't have to worry and he would be gone soon enough either way, but the bell rang for him and he had to run.

He didn't realize until he was in the stairs that it was Phillip he would have to face, but when he did he only sighed. Nothing seemed so bad anymore, he could do anything.

***

”When are you leaving?” he asked as he adjusted his tie.

”Tomorrow morning”, the duke replied. ”And I'd very much prefer if you came with.”

There had been a time when Thomas hadn't wanted anything more than to be wanted by someone, anyone, whatever the reason. As long as he was wanted and needed, he would had done anything. Twelve years earlier he would had left his entire life at Downton for Phillip, nine years earlier he would had spent all his remaining days leading the blind Edward through a tiny flat where they hid from the rest of the world, and only five years earlier he would had died for Jimmy Kent.

It was strange for him that Andy didn't demand anything of him, and that for him he wouldn't have to lose anything. That all he could do was love him, and he would love him back. Because he could be loved, he could be, and he didn't need to do anything for it. He hadn't lead Andy on, yet he had kissed him that day when they played cricket, and he had practically shunned him, but he had still been sitting by his bed when he had passed out. He could do much better than someone like Phillip, at least he could have if he hadn't been so stupid to put his feelings on paper all those years ago.

”I'm still thinking it over”, he said, even though he knew he had no choice.

”What's there to think about?” Phillip laughed. ”Are you saying you'd rather sit in prison than be with me?”

Thomas still saw that as a possibility. After all, prison would only be a few years, and not the rest of his life. But no, he would say yes. Eventually he would.

And before he knew it, he was being kissed. Phillip's mouth was on his, his tongue was in it and his face was too close. He had imagined that that's how it would feel to kiss a woman, awkward, stiff and disgusting. But he just stood there, didn't kiss him back but didn't pull away either.

_I'm going to take a stroll_ , he thought.  _A long walk around the abbey, and then down to town. One last time so I remember, because the nature out here is absolutely wonderful._

He didn't feel anything, because he wasn't Andy.

_Should I bring the big clock?_ he wondered.

He loved that clock, loved all his clocks. They were his safety, the only thing in his life that was always constant and always would be there. But that one was big and heavy, and didn't go quite right lately. He supposed he could fix it up, but would it be worth it? He didn't think it would fit in his cases.

_No_ , he thought.  _No, I'll just leave it._

 


	12. I could never use you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I suppose this is all AU now.   
> But for some reason I've regained hope after last night's episode, who knows.

This time Thomas followed Andy out. He sat at the other end of the bench and lit a cigarette. It was quiet, he didn't know what to say. Didn't know what he was supposed to say or what Andy wanted him to say. And he would rather wait and sit there silent, than to hurt him again. Not this time, this time was supposed to be a good one.

”You know”, Andy said eventually. ”If you're in trouble then I want to help you.”

Thomas knew that he was sincere, and that he actually did. He didn't distrust him now, no, he could hear that he was honest. Not many people had ever wanted to help him, and when they did they most certainly had an ulterior motive. But not Andy, never his Andy. Andy was different, he had always been. From the first second he had stepped inside the kitchen of Grantham House, he had been different.

”I know”, he replied. ”But there's nothing that you can do.”

Unless he was willing to run away to America with him. And work in his little clock shop and be tied for him for the rest of life. But no one, not even Andy Parker, could ever want to be stuck witn Thomas Barrow for longer than a car ride or a trip by train, and he knew that. If it meant that he had to leave, then he would. Because Andy always came first.

”I know that you're conflicted”, he said.

_That's one word for it_ . But if he could, then he would had stayed with him there at the abbey for the rest of his days. He would had loved to, and he would had enjoyed every second of it. If he only had realized it before it had been too late.

”But we could always be friends”, he continued.

Thomas knew then that he would never get over Andy. Not the way he had, after all those bottles of wine, managed to stop missing Phillip, or how he had managed to breathe after Edward had killed himself, or how he had stopped dreaming about Jimmy. That had taken electotherapy, pills and injections and he had almost died, but he had moved on.

That would never be the thing with Andy. There wouldn't be a day in his life that he woke up without hoping that he was beside him with his curly and messy hair, there would never be a time when he could walk an entire day without his chest aching in that strange way. He would never forget how his lips tasted or how his hands felt on his skin. He knew that, he knew it with all of his heart. And it was strange, because there was nothing special about him. He was just Andrew Parker, a footman from London, one of millions and millions of men in the world. But he was his Andy, and for some reason that he would never know, he would never forget him.

”We couldn't”, he said, staring at him because it was one of the last chances he would ever get.

He didn't want to tell him he was leaving, because then he would have to explain why. And he didn't want to have to do that, not when he was a completely different person in Andy's eyes. And he would be making a fuss, and it would only make it harder to leave. He wouldn't be able to, if he had to see Andy's face.

”Bloody hell”, Andy said.

Thomas had expected some sort of reaction, but he said it calmly without any emotions showing through.

They sat too far apart, but Thomas could had moved just a few steps sideways and been able to put his head on Andy's shoulder. And then everything would be okay, and he would be safe and not have a worry in the world.

”Can't even be mad at you anymore”, the footman laughed. ”Kind of saw it coming this time.”

Thomas wondered if he would miss him. If he would wonder where he had gone, if he would wish that he was still there. He wondered if anyone would, but the only one he needed to was Andy. One person was enough. He had never before thought it could even be that many, that it could be anyone at all. But if there was one person that he had met in his entire life that would miss him, then he would be pleased. Especially if it was him, if it was Andy.

And they sat out there in the courtyard, Thomas smoking and Andy quiet beside him. And they had so much to say to each other, but the silence spoke for them both.

”You know”, said Andy after a while. ”I didn't just fancy you a little. I was really in love with you.”

For the first time in his life Thomas didn't doubt someone that told him that.

”So if you'd ever feel like using me again”, he continued, ”then I suppose I'd be up for it.”

”You're daft you”, Thomas scoffed.

Because he wouldn't if he knew him, and about all the things he had done. Because with Andy he seemed to be a different person, so he had never met the real Thomas. He thought it was good that he hadn't. He would had been very disappointed.

”Yeah”, Andy laughed. ”I know.”

_But so am I._

”I could never use you”, Thomas told him.

He had used a lot of people in his days, and he had never thought he'd meet someone that he'd feel repulsed to do it to. Until Andy. He supposed he was the only exception. All rules have one, even the ones Thomas Barrow lived his life after.

”I should go in”, Andy said.

But he stayed put, his body just close enough for Thomas to reach out and touch, his breathing just loud enough for him to hear.

_This is nice_ , he thought.

Because it was nice. It felt good, it felt right. And it could be every day for the rest of his life, and he would still enjoy it just as much. But Andy wouldn't, so it couldn't be.

But right then, for a little while, it could be, and it was.

 


	13. People steal each other's servants all the time

Dinner was over. The women of the house were conversing in the library and the men had retreated to smoke. Downstairs the servants were setting the table and Daisy and Mrs Patmore were finishing their dinner.

Thomas was the last one in the dining room, lingered there a little while longer while picking with the chairs and going through the table slowly and methodically to see if anything had been left behind. He didn't want to go downstairs just yet.

At one point during the dinner when his host family had been in a very heated conversation Phillip had shot him a look across the table, and before he had remembered where he was and what he was supposed to do, he had for a second lost his breath and stumbled a little, almost tripping over his own feet. He'd been certain no one had noticed, but then he had scanned the room and found Andy by the end of the table, in a perfect position to have seen both of them. And he couldn't just yet deal with any more of his questions or see him draw his own conclusions, so he had taken his time getting ready to go down.

And so it happened, that just when he left the dining room and closed the door behind him, a door at the other end of the hall was opened. He started walking faster, but when he heard someone calling for him he had no choice but to stop and wait for him.

”What?” he sneered as Phillip scurried across the room.

”I was hoping to catch you”, the duke replied. ”I couldn't wait until I went up to be alone with you.”

Thomas knew that he bloody well could've, because he wasn't young and dumb anymore and didn't fall for his compliments and lies the way he had used to. He just gave up an irritated noise somewhere between a sigh and a murmur.

”I wanted to say that you should come within the end of the week”, Phillip continued, completely ignoring him. ”I don't think anyone would connect it to my visit, do you?”

Thomas realized that he was still as naive and carefree as he had always been. Because of course someone would realize, if he left without handing in his notice and working his last month and suddenly worked up at his house, only a week after he had been visiting Downton.

”Are you bloody insane?” he laughed, trying to conceal his confusion and unwillingness. ”You don't think anyone would realize?”

Practically everyone there, both downstairs and upstairs, knew about him, that would be all too obvious.

”Well, what would they do if they did?” said Phillip. ”People steal each other's servants all the time.”

While trying to come up with something to say, to gain just a little more time at Downton, just another month with Andy, Thomas suddenly felt his servant's blank face disappear under the pressure. It took him just a second to get it back, but that second had been enough for Phillip to see him hesitate.

”What?” he asked, taking a step closer to him. ”Are you trying to dodge me?”

Desperate to get his face away from his, Thomas took a step back and found himself with his back actually against the wall and nowhere to run. But Phillip came even closer once again, his mouth just inches from Thomas' and his nose almost touching his.

”Are you trying something?” he asked, his voice low and threatening.

Thomas tried to open his mouth and say something, something witty that would offend him, that would make him forget, something, anything, but it didn't obey him.

”There's nowhere to run”, Phillip said.

He placed his hand on his cheek like he wasn't threatening him with prison, and it felt like it was burning on his skin. He wanted it gone, needed it gone, didn't want him to touch him like that, like nothing had ever happened between them, like he hadn't broken his heart.

” _Get off me!”_ he yelled.

He hit away his hand and before he knew it he had grabbed him and slammed his head into the wall.

And they stood there, the duke against the wall and the underbutler standing too close too him and holding his suit with both hands, when the door was once again opened. They both looked there at once and Thomas immediately let go off him, but the lord of the house had already seen them.

”Lord Grantham!” Phillip exclaimed as Robert slowly closed the door behind him. ”Thank God you're here!”

There was something about his voice that made Thomas realize that he had already come up with a way to save himself, but that plan would involve throwing him under the wagon. He looked desperately at him, but he was already forgotten, and Phillip would sacrifice him any day to save his reputation.

Robert made his way towards them and he didn't look suprised, disgusted or angry at all, but he was breathing heavily and clenching his fists.

”What is going on here?” he asked calmly.

Thomas looked to the ground, knowing very well that whatever he would say wouldn't make a difference.

”I'll tell you what's going on!” Phillip said. ”You have a bloody homosexual in your staff, that's what's going on!”

At this Thomas smiled lightly to himself, because that wouldn't work. He already knew.

”As I am aware”, Robert replied. ”And this certain homosexual has both dressed and undressed me, so get to the point.”

For a second Phillip was at loss for words, but he quickly found himself again.

”Well, it's bloody disgusting!” he almost shouted. ”He practically threw himself at me!”

Robert looked to Thomas, who lifted his head to face his eyes.

”Barrow”, he said. ”Is this true?”

Thomas tried to come up with something to explain it all, but he couldn't find any way to do it.

”Yes, m'lord”, he said.

”Very well”, his employer replied. ”But I'm sure he is very sorry, aren't you, Barrow?”

”Yes”, Thomas replied. ”Very, m'lord.”

Robert exhaled and straightened his back.

”See”, he said to Phillip. ”Problem solved, he won't bother you again.”

The latter was still confused as to why his plan wasn't working, but he knew he still had the upper hand and he was going to use it.

”Not me maybe”, he said. ”But think of all the other male guests, I bet he attacks all of them.”

Once again Robert looked at Thomas.

”Do you?” he asked.

_Well, there was that turkish diplomate, and-_ But no, he certainly didn't throw himself at every male guest they had in that house. Not even he would have enough energy for that.

”No, m'lord.”

”Then once again; problem solved.”

He was ready to walk in to the ladies and leave it all behind him, but Phillip was desperate not to give him the wrong impression and wouldn't let go that easily.

”It most definitely isn't!” he shouted. ”I'll go to the police if it comes to it, see how your family survives that scandal!”

Robert sighed.

”What do you want?” he asked.

”I want him dismissed”, Phillip said, a bit calmer and not as desperate.

For a few seconds it was unnervingly quiet, and you could actually feel the tension in the air. When Robert opened his mouth to speak again, Thomas was certain that he would agree and that his days there would be over. But what he actually said made his jaw drop.

”Listen”, he began. ”We could all pretend that I don't know exactly what's really going on and that I don't know all about your reputation, or you could bugger off and never come back here ever again.”

Thomas looked at him in shock, suprised that anyone would protect  _him,_ especially Robert, earl of Grantham, especially when his reputation was at stake.

”It would be your word against mine”, Phillip said after he had recovered from the worst suprise.

”And Barrow's”, Robert added. ”Not to mention a great deal of people who also know and have never really liked you.”

He smiled. Phillip smiled coldly back at him.

”Suppose I better get upstairs”, he said. ”Tell the ladies I wasn't feeling up to it. I'll undress myself, thank you.”

He cast one final glance at Thomas before ascending up the stairs, slowly and calmly like the gentleman he was. When he was gone and couldn't hear them anymore, Robert sighed and turned around to join the women and tell them all about the drama that had just took place in their hall.

”Why'd you do that?” Thomas asked, so surprised and shaken that he couldn't judge how appropiate it was to talk to his employer in that manner.

Robert turned to him and smiled.

”Haven't liked that man since he broke lady Mary's heart”, he said. ”And besides, if stealing someone's valet is bad, can't you imagine stealing someone's _butler?”_

He scoffed before he left like it was the worst thing a man could possibly do, leaving Thomas to try and process what had just happened. It was only after he had gone, when no one could actually hear him, that he came up with something that made sense.

” _Under_ butler”, he said to the empty hall.

He could've started crying out of relief. He could've laughed manically. He could've simply turned around and walked down the stairs, joined the others for dinner and returned to his normal life. He could've started planning his future life at the Abbey, could've started thinking about Andy.

But all he did was stand there quietly and stare blindly in front of him, too afraid to believe that it was over just yet, and too shocked to understand what had even happened. Because things were never easy, things were never simple. Not for him. So why would they be this time?

 


	14. But are you happy?

Thomas did not like the way Robert looked at him after that night. He was proud and he didn't like people seeing him weak and vulnerable, especially not his employer. He looked at him with pity and curiousity and almost appeared to wait to hear the story, bored as he was with his own life. Thomas would never tell him the story, he preferred to let him make his own conclusions. He did not want to have to reveal to his employer that he was soggy and fell in love and got heartbroken.

But the more he thought about it, the more right did he think he had not to tell him anything. As a matter of fact, his lordship owed him. Thomas had searched for his dog in the woods for hours (after he had stolen it, but nevertheless, he had done it) and Thomas had saved his daughter from a fire (while being there for all the wrong reasons, which didn't really matter). He had despite everything been an excellent employee and Robert wasn't supposed to have done anything but help him out.

No, he wasn't a problem at all. Even if everyone in the house knew, he hadn't done anything wrong this time. Whatever they thought didn't concern him at all.

***

A week after the duke of Crowborough had left Downton Thomas got a letter. Everyone stared at him as Carson called his name and gave it to him, because he hadn't gotten a letter from anyone in a very long time. He was actually surprised himself, even though he had some idea of what it might contain. But he hadn't expected it.

There was no sender, and there was no return adress. But he didn't need that; he knew who had sent it and he had written it himself. He noted that his handwriting had been absolutely horrible back then. He had also been very devoted, very naive, and very graphic. He wrinkled his nose. _Very_ graphic.

He had never had a way with words, had never been good at writing. But he had been so proud of that letter all those years ago. He had spent hours on it, filled it with words he didn't fully understand and added weird little sentences that he supposed had been meant to be mysterious and poetic but just seemed odd and out of place and hadn't made any sense.

_When the water hits the shore we'll meet again._

He snorted aloud at the breakfast table. He had thought he was a poet, he had thought that would had been romantic and impress Phillip. He had probably laughed at it, the way he would laugh at it himself as soon as he was alone. It was physically painful to read it, but he knew he would have to save it and read it every now and again so that he would never again forget how awful, awkward and stupid he was.

”Is anything funny, Mr Barrow?” Carson boomed from his place at the table.

Thomas suddenly realized where he was, and also that he had probably been grinning.

”Oh, nothing”, he said.

”Who's it from?” Phyllis asked him.

”No one”, he replied.

Maybe he could show it to her one day. Maybe they could laugh at it – and him – together. She was the closest thing to a friend that he had there, and he thought it might do him well. To let someone know just how ridicilous and cheesy and romantic he was deep down.

”I'm sure it's from someone”, Bates chimed in.

Thomas sighed. It was bound to happen, he was bound to interfere. He always did, every time. But for some reason, he suddenly realized why. He realized that John Bates was just strangely desperate to for some reason protect everyone in that room. And he knew why he deemed Thomas a threat, and he couldn't blame him.

”If you must know”, he sneered. ”It is from someone.”

”Is it what I think it is?” Phyllis asked, suddenly concerned and eager to take care of him.

”No”, he replied. ”It isn't.”

How she expected a bottle of pills or a needle to be fit in that small envelope was beyond him, but he couldn't help but appreciate that someone gave a damn about him.

”What do you think it is?” John asked her.

”Hopefully not what I think it is”, Carson interrupted with a warning glare.

Whatever Carson thought he was smiling at was much closer to the truth, but it was definitely not that either. Luckily, Thomas was saved.

”Could I have the bread, please?” Andy asked.

Thomas gratefully passed him the bread and smiled at him instead of thanking him, because that wouldn't be customary and would seem very odd to everyone else, who didn't know that Andy wasn't at all planning to eat any more bread.

Instead Andy thanked him, and Bates stared cluelessly and confused at him. But Thomas couldn't care less about what he was suspecting or what possibilites he was lining up.

”You're welcome”, he only said, smiling at him even though everyone was looking.

***

Phyllis ran up to him in the corridor.

”I need to tell you something”, she said.

He had never seen her like that, cheeks blushed and eyes glowing. She was positively radiant, and absolutely beautiful. He had never thought of her as beautiful, hadn't ever thought of her as happy either.

”What?” he asked.

Anyone else would had been able to tell, but he had no idea.

”I didn't know whether to tell you”, she said first. ”You've been so down lately and I thought it wouldn't really help-”

”If what?” he asked.

She smiled, like she still thought it fantastic to be able to say it.

”I'm engaged”, she said. ”I'm getting married.”

For a second Thomas didn't know what to say. No one had ever come to him with happy news, no one had ever expected him to congratulate them and be happy for them. He didn't know what she expected him to do, how excited she expected him to be.

”Did Molesley-”

”Yes!” she squealed. ”He proposed to me!”

_Phyllis Molesley_ , he thought.  _Mrs Phyllis Molesley._

It didn't sound too bad, it sounded pretty natural. Like she had always been meant to become Mrs Phyllis Molesley, like she had never had any other purpose but to marry Joseph.

_Thomas Parker_ , he thought. 

It didn't sound all too bad either.

”Congratulations”, he said.

”So you're happy for me?” she asked.

He had to think about it, but he was. Of course he was. Of course he wanted to see her happy, of course he wanted to see her get married, of course he wanted to see that all the pain and anxiety he had caused her was gone and forgotten.

”Of course I am”, he said. ”For both of you.”

She was so happy that he said that. He couldn't tell why, because he was the last person she should care about, the last person whose opinion she should want.

”But are you happy?” she asked. ”Because I know you weren't.”

He thought again. What reason had he not to be happy? What had he to be sad over? A week earlier he had thought he would have to leave Downton and everyone there behind, now he suddenly had everything. He hadn't been happy then. But now, now he could stay. Now he could continue working like nothing had ever happened, now he could be involved in agreeing whether they should call Mrs Molesley Phyllis or Mr Molesley Joseph, now he could look at Andy across the dinner table. Maybe one day he could even take him up on that friendship. It would be nice, to have a friend. Especially one like Andy.

No, he hadn't been happy. And he wasn't really happy just yet, but he could be. He probably would be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few chapters left now, for real this time.  
> And sneaky me sneaked in some of my other ship too because why not


	15. It's her wedding day!

Andy was fine. Not in a way that he was overwhelmingly happy all the time, not in a way that he didn't sometimes look at Thomas in a way he wasn't supposed to. Not that he didn't wish there would be something more, not that he wasn't heartbroken, not that he wasn't angry, not that he always fell asleep as soon as he put his head on his pillow. But sometimes he could look up at the sky and just think that it was beautiful, and sometimes he could suddenly smile without realizing that he did.

When George had died he had gone into a state of complete denial. He had told himself that it was a dream and that it wasn't real, until he had finally snapped. He had gone into their room after coming back from Grantham House, and suddenly he had just realized what it meant, and he had collapsed into a crying puddle on the floor, he hadn't been able to see, hadn't been able to hear, hadn't been able to stop screaming. It had taken days until he could stop, until all tears were gone and he was drained of all emotions. He had been empty, he had walked the corridors like a ghost and repeated the same old phrases like a machine. It was as if everything was gone, as if he couldn't feel a thing anymore. Like he had been so sad that he had used up his quota of emotions.

He couldn't even miss him. To him he was just gone. He had been and then he hadn't been. They had been, and then it was over. He disappeared from his memory, slowly, piece by piece. He couldn't remember how it had been, like he had never existed at all. He didn't feel sad anymore, just empty.

He hadn't felt before he had met Thomas again. Suddenly he had started smiling again, suddenly he could be both happy and sad and everything in between. One day he had just stood outside and he had heard a bird, and he had just thought that it sounded beautiful, and that had been it. That had been all it took, the sound of that one bird, and everything was back to normal.

It had gone slowly first, not like with George. With George he had been blushing and stuttering during their first conversation, and before that week was over he hadn't been able to think of anything else but him. Of course it had always been different with Thomas. He had never felt the way about him like he did with Daisy or Molesley, he had liked him differently than them. But it wasn't until after a while that he had been able to put a name on it, it had taken well over four months before he had suddenly realized that he was in love with Thomas Barrow. Because it had only been growing stronger and stronger when he at first thought it would end, and then one day he had just burst because he couldn't help it anymore.

It was weird because he felt like he should be upset, but he wasn't really. He was fine. It wasn't like with George, who had disappeared from the face of the earth forever and wouldn't ever come back. Thomas still ate at the same table as him, still slept in the same corridor just a few doors away. He could see him, he could hear him, and if he wanted to he could reach out and feel him. Not that he didn't still want to do a lot more than brush against his shoulder, but sometimes you have to compromise, sometimes you have to see the bright side of things.

He hadn't stopped loving him, he wouldn't say that. Not more than he had stopped loving George. No, Andy didn't believe you could ever stop loving someone, if you've done it truly and properly. He didn't think you can ever get over someone, he knew he hadn't. But he had come to terms with it, he had accepted it.

His heart was beating and his lungs were full of air. He was alive, he could breathe. Andy was fine.

***

Thomas had been fine. He hadn't just told everyone else that, he hadn't even just told himself that. He had actually been fine. Up until the very last day, he had been absolutely fine.

He had helped Phyllis pick out a dress, because he was allowed in the female quarters and she had wanted a man to approve of it as it was a man she wanted to impress with it. He had sat constricted between Anna and Daisy on her bed and tried to be interested. He had nodded and hummed and shook his head, but they had all looked the same to him and no one was better than the others. He had never been interested in dresses, or any clothes at all. He had been in a uniform for fifteen years and owned approximately three outfits for days off.

Then he had proceeded to spend an even longer time inside Molesley's room together with Bates and looked at suits that they both just didn't find identical but that actually were. Because he was Phyllis' friend, and for some reason Molesley assumed that that meant that he knew which suit she would've preferred. And afterwards he had brought him to the side and in whispers asked him how he kept his hair so full. And he had just sneered, because he was not as old as Molesley and he was certainly not old enough to be losing his hair like he did.

He had tried to convince everyone that it would be best to call Molesley Joseph as he was the footman, and Phyllis would be Molesley because she was a lady's maid (even though she would never be anything but Phyllis to him). Carson had suggested that she would continue to be called Baxter, and Mrs Hughes and Mrs Patmore had said that she would certainly agree to be called Phyllis. And Thomas had sulked in a corner and hadn't agreed with anyone, because his idea was the right one. He had never liked Molesley still being Molesley when he was a footman, not when people (John Bates) still called him Thomas every now and then and he had to constantly correct them and say that for them it was Mr Barrow. They hadn't settled for anything.

He had looked as Daisy and Mrs Patmore baked a cake when they weren't busy with the food for the family, and he had thought that it looked delicious and had looked forward to eating it. It wasn't like the ones the upstairs folks had on their weddings, but it was still cake and cake is never bad. He had managed to convince Daisy to let him taste it, saying that Baxter had asked him to assure that the cake was in order.

”It's her wedding day!” he had said dramatically, even though he had no idea why that would be such a big thing.

The cake was indeed in order, but he never told Phyllis that.

He had helped Carson select the wine, and he had gone into Thirsk to look into record stores and found one suitable to dance to. Phyllis and Joseph (as he had started to call him) had approved of it, and he had gone up to the attic to dust off the grammophone and carry it down to the servant's hall. Sometimes he had even found himself waiting for the wedding, looking in his calendar and noting how many days were left. It was almost as if he was looking forward to it.

He hadn't been grumpy, he hadn't bickered with anyone, he hadn't even been rude. He had been very helpful and extremely supportive, and he had never stopped smiling. He hadn't wanted to either, because he had been fine.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are getting close to the end now! I want to thank all you readers for your continued support, and especially those of you who's commented! It means a lot and I'm very grateful.


	16. There's something wrong with Thomas

”Mr Barrow?” Daisy said, turning her head and raising an eyebrow. ”What's wrong?”

He had suddenly stopped, completely frozen, and he was staring straight ahead as if he was looking right through her.

”Nothing”, he said, returning to reality and giving her a faint smile. ”I'm perfectly fine.”

He didn't look fine. He was pale and his eyes were glassy, he was clenching his fists and his lips shivered ever so slightly when he didn't talk.

Daisy had known him for many years, and she hadn't seen him like that since... Ever. She'd seen him close to that several times, but she had never seen him quite that battered. He was not fine, that was for sure. But she couldn't wrap her head around why.

He'd been a little gloomy a month earlier, but he had been happier than usual ever since Molesley and Baxter had gotten engaged. She hadn't seen him like that either, honestly. He'd been so invested in the whole ordeal, and he had agreed to everything anyone had asked off him. The hall boy could screw up as much as he liked and he didn't do a thing, Molesley could do whatever he wanted and not get a bad word. She had never thought him to be a person to be happy for others, and it had surprised her. But she wouldn't complain about it, god no, she liked him like that. Almost as much as she had liked him before the war, when a word from him had made her heart beat twice as fast and the sight of him made the entire world around her spin.

”Should we go in?” she asked.

He looked at the church door.

”You go in”, he said. ”I'll just have a smoke.”

There was nothing strange about having a smoke before you'd have to sit in a church for ages, for Thomas it was never strange to have a smoke. But it was strange to look so sick and so desperate on someone's wedding day, and Daisy didn't like it.

”But-”

But Thomas Barrow was a very stubborn man and it would take a war and more to change his mind about anything, so she didn't bother. It wouldn't make any difference whether she begged or pulled his arm, but she knew what would.

She scurried up the stairs, made her way through the crowd and towards him. He wasn't hard to spot, being the tallest one in there.

”Andy-” she said.

He turned around and looked at her, a little wary, a little suspicious that she would throw herself at him.

_Please,_ she thought.  _Give me a little credit._

It wasn't like she hadn't seen it, any of it. It wasn't like she hadn't noticed how he looked at Thomas or the way his eyes brightened as soon as he entered the room. She wasn't blind, and she'd looked at him that way herself.

”There's something wrong with Thomas”, she said, deliberately not calling him Barrow. ”I don't think he's too well.”

It wasn't like she didn't see how his smile suddenly disappeared and he suddenly turned stiff, it wasn't like she didn't notice just how worried he got, it wasn't like she didn't know why he was suddenly in such a hurry that he had to rush out of there while everyone else started getting seated.

She might not have known exactly what was going on, but she knew damn well that if there was someone that could make Thomas stop looking so miserable it was Andy Parker.

***

He didn't know when it first happened. Maybe he had had moments of feeling uneasy for the last few days and just shrugged them off. And the evening before he had gotten very tired, like emotional tired, so tired that he had to drag himself up the stairs. He hadn't fallen asleep for a while either. He didn't know why, but he hadn't.

But it wasn't until the day of the wedding that it actually happened. He woke up feeling like he had a big rock pressing on his chest and he couldn't breathe. It didn't go away, instead it was joined by a horrible headache. One moment he felt like he was trapped under water, the next like he was free falling down a cliff and there was nothing awaiting him but hard ground and death.

At first he wondered if it had something to do with the drugs. He hadn't taken them for a while, but maybe they came back and kicked in for a final kick in the face before they left his system completely. He didn't know, he didn't know much about medicine. He hadn't been paying a lot of attention in his classes because of the cute boy he had sat next to, and he had only barely passed training training to become a medical corpral. And even if he had been more interested they had focused more on open wounds and bullet holes through organs than drugs to cure homosexuality. He supposed it was fair, they were going to the trenches and not a shady London nightclub.

But it wasn't the drugs, because when they walked into the village everything only got worse. Every step became heavier to take and his smile started fading away slowly as it became more exhausting to maintain it.

He wasn't fine. Because he would never walk down towards the church as happy as Phyllis or with a smile as large as Molesley's. He would never stand for hours and try to choose between two identical suits, he would never get to order Mrs Patmore to make a cake and he would never be given a little cottage to live in by his lordship. He would never wake up happy and wrap his arms around the person he loved and their children would never come running and start jumping up and down the bed. Whatever awaited him wasn't that. It wasn't walking down the road holding hands with someone, or getting an anonymous Valentine's card at the breakfast table and then pretending that he doesn't know who it's from.

His entire life he had told himself that he didn't want that, that he didn't need that. But he did want that, he did need that. Not just a friend, not just someone to touch him every now and then, but everything, the whole thing. The sloppy, romantic, kissing, hand holding, giggling, butterflies in the stomach thing. He didn't want to be alone, he didn't want everyone to look at him with suspicion and disgust or – even worse – pity. He didn't want everyone to always expect him to be nasty, he didn't want the maids to go silent when he entered the room or the hall boy to be too afraid to look at him.

When he was young he had thought that he wanted that. He had thought that it was the only way anyone would ever respect him and that everyone was worth it. He had wanted everyone to look away and lower their heads the way he always had, he had wanted them to know how they made him feel. Except it had never been them. William had known and had never even mentioned it, but every time Thomas had found him crying in the pantry because of him he had just thought it was good and that he deserved it. And Carson hadn't fired him back when he had such an obvious crush on the paper delivery boy that the whole house must have known, but Thomas had detested him. Because he had been so sure that they would hate him that he always had to be one step ahead, and when he had finally realized that nothing would ever come and nothing would ever happen it had been far too late to stop. Then he hadn't known how to be kind anymore, then he hadn't known how to strike up random conversation or compliment someone. It had been too late and he had been stuck.

Andy had been different. He hadn't known about anything Thomas had done and he had had the perfect opportunity to befriend him. Of course that had gone to hell too. Because Andy had fallen for him because he had tried to be kind, but Thomas had been confused. He had been confused and scared and bloody stupid and he had messed up.

And he had been wrong. Because with him he could be kind and nice, he could do things right and he could be good. Not once with him had he ever wanted to do anything bad, and he had known what was right and what was wrong. He knew now that he could be good to Andy and that he could love him without hurting him, but it was too late.

He stumbled away from the front of the church so no one would see him and supported himself on the wall of the sides of it. It physically hurt, that he would never get to have what Phyllis and Joseph Molesley had. That it would always be illegal and that he would always have to hide. That Andy would move on but he never would, and he would die old, alone and unloved.

He couldn't take one more second of it, because he couldn't breathe and he couldn't stand up without leaning against the wall.

On the other side of that wall people were gathering for a wedding, on the other side of that wall two people would get married and everyone would be so happy for them and they could go on a honeymoon and they could kiss whenever they wanted to and they could be in love in front of the entire world and no one would object. But Thomas wasn't like that, he wasn't like them, and he could never do all those things. Because it wasn't some girl he wanted to do them with, but a tall footman named Andrew that everyone called Andy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been fun, but it's time for me to say goodbye. The next chapter is the LAST ONE


	17. Things change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, wow. This is actually it, the end. I want to thank you all so so very much for your continued support, it has really meant the world to me!

When Thomas first felt Andy's hands on his shoulders he thought he was going to ask him what was wrong. He thought he was going to tell him that it would all be fine and judge him silently, and he thought he would think him daft and dramatic and whatnot and tell him to get over it. He thought that if he didn't do that then he would feel sorry for him and realize just how pathetic he was.

But Andy didn't do any of that. He just dried Thomas's tears with his bare hands and then he held him while he hyperventilated on his shoulder.

”Why can't we have it like that?” he cried inbetween breaths.

He didn't have to explain it, because Andy knew. For the first time in his life, someone knew. Someone knew what it was like to be the way he was, how it felt when your love had to be hidden and everyone thought it was wrong.

”I don't know I”, Andy replied. ”We wouldn't have to have it too bad.”

Thomas had gathered himself together enough to start breathing normally and be able to stand on his own, so he did. He took a step back and when he smiled it wasn't even fake, because practically everything Andy said could make him smile at any occasion.

”We couldn't exactly get married”, he said.

”Who said anything about marriage?” Andy said and huffed. ”I just wanted to get inside your pants.”

Thomas laughed. Everything felt strangely fine with Andy there. Especially when he smiled that big and his eyes looked like that. He forgot that he wasn't supposed to feel like that, or he just didn't care.

”I don't know though”, he continued. ”Things change. Women couldn't vote before the war, now they can. Who knows what can happen.”

”Not that”, Thomas said.

He had only been joking when he mentioned marriage, because he knew it would always be an impossibility. Because marriages were between men and women and that wouldn't ever change. He could see a distant, tiny reality where he and Andy together wouldn't be illegal, but not one where they could get married. Not that, never that.

”Well, theres no use in us waiting outside the church then”, Andy said. ”Come on, let's get back to the Abbey.”

”I'm not going back to the Abbey”, Thomas protested. ”I need to attend the ceremony.”

He had never thought anyone would ever want him at their wedding, but now one person did and he couldn't let her down. Not if he wanted to be invited to the one she would have once she had finally come to her senses and ditched Joseph.

”I am not letting you inside that church”, Andy said. ”Not because it obviously causes you great emotional distress and I care about your feelings right now, but because I can't let you interrupt the ceremony. Especially not when you look like absolute shit.”

Thomas didn't want to be at the wedding like that, he didn't want everyone to see him the way he was. But he didn't want to make Andy miss it either.

”Fine”, he said. ”I'll go back on my own.”

”No you won't”, Andy said.

Then he started trotting down the street like he owned it, and Thomas took a few jogging steps to catch up with him.

”I'm not missing Carson's though”, the footman declared. ”Do you think he'll be a crier?”

”No”, Thomas said, because after 15 years he still hadn't seen that man shed a single tear.

”Well”, Andy said. ”I didn't take you for one either.”

They both laughed. Because it was a bizarre situation, but it didn't feel weird or odd at all.

”Christ”, Thomas thought out loud. ”I'm a wreck.”

They left town behind them at this point, and he looked back to see if he could change his mind and suddenly want to rush back to church and wipe himself under the eye with a handkierchef as his sister's childhood friend said her vows, but he didn't. He was content walking back with Andy, freshing up a bit and waiting with him in the servant's hall till the others came back and then tell him he had been feeling a little ill.

_We could dance_ , he thought.  _We couldn't dance during the reception, but before they came back we could._

He liked to dance.

”What was it?” Andy asked. ”That happened back before they got engaged, what was it?”

That seemed like ages ago. Like Thomas had gone through hell and came out on the other side.

”I'll tell you all about it one day”, he said.

He would. Didn't Andy deserve to know, if they were going to do what he wanted them to do?

”I'm not very good at this”, he said quietly.

Andy looked at him.

”What?”

”Relationships”, Thomas said. ”Or- whatever.”

Andy snickered.

”You don't say.”

Thomas hit him lightly on the arm. He was going to say so much, he was going to be very serious and he was going to make everything alright. He hadn't known how to do it, but he was going to. Until Andy ruined it.

_Sod it_ , he thought.  _I'll just go for it._

At this point they were on a road that was nearly never travelled. It only lead to the Abbey and was mostly used for deliveries or downstairs guest. But now the entire house was in town and the road laid empty, and Thomas went for it.

He reached out his hand, and Andy stared at it with raised eyebrows.

” _What?”_

”Isn't that what you do?” Thomas said.

”Well-”

”No one's gonna see”, he continued. ”If they do you're my blind nephew.”

Andy thought about it for a second.

”No”, he said.

Thomas heart sank in his chest. He had known it could end like that and he thought he had been prepared, but he was still disappointed. But of course Andy didn't want him, old and gloomy and nasty.

”You're my blind uncle Thomas”, Andy suddenly said instead.

Then he gripped his hand and smiled.

”This is weird”, Thomas said.

”So weird”, Andy agreed.

And they laughed.

It was weird. Because Thomas had never held hands with anyone, not really, and he certainly had never done it outside in broad daylight. But it felt... He didn't know. It felt _right,_ in a way, like it was the way things were supposed to be. And he didn't know what would happen the next day or even when they got so close to the Abbey that they had to let go, but he knew that there wasn't anything else he was supposed to do in that moment.

Thomas would've skipped if he was ten years younger. He had never been that happy in his entire life, and he didn't know why because they were just holding hands. But he didn't want to hold hands with anyone else anymore, no one in the entire world. But then, he supposed Andy was the only exception.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves you off* Goodbye friends!


End file.
